'Til Death (A Rebel Ridge Novel)

by Sharon Sala

  The anger she’d felt down in the barn was gone now, replaced by a growing panic. She stuffed the cap into her pocket and started running again, going farther and higher, straight up Rebel Ridge. She prayed that Linc would come back before dark. When he got to her place to reclaim his truck and found her gone, he would know something was wrong. He would come looking. Of that she was sure. But she couldn’t count on him coming in time to save her, so she kept on running until her side was aching, her chest was burning and her vision was blurred with tears.

  Please, God, don’t let me die, she thought over and over like a chant that would keep her safe.

  After a frantic glance over her shoulder, she finally left the trail. It was less than an hour before nightfall. All she needed was a little more time. Prince wouldn’t be able to find her in the dark—she hoped.

  She moved slower now, needing to stay as quiet as possible. Sound carried a long way in the mountains, and running through brush, snapping limbs and moving through dry leaves on the forest floor would lead Prince right to her.

  One minute she was leaning against a pine to catch her breath, and the next second it was as if God had turned out the lights. All of a sudden she looked up and it was pitch-black, with a sky so overcast she couldn’t see stars.

  “Sweet Lord,” Meg moaned. Too late to double back now and virtually impossible to see where she was going no matter which way she headed.

  She didn’t know whether to curl up beneath this tree and pray to God Prince didn’t find her or keep moving. It was the fear of facing Prince and that gun again that made her choose the latter.

  As she felt her way through the dense growth her eyes slowly adjusted until she could see different values of black. She continued to feel her way through the trees, hoping to find a place to shelter.

  Something cold fell onto her cheek, then her lips, and then her eyelids. She moaned. It was beginning to snow. She lifted her hand to swipe a lock of hair from her eyes and looked up.

  The next step she took was off the side of the mountain. All of a sudden there was nothing but air beneath her feet.

  She screamed, and then...impact!

  All thought was gone.

  * * *

  Prince heard the scream from somewhere above him. When it ended abruptly, he cursed. He didn’t know what the hell just happened to her, but he knew when to cut his losses and run. Either she’d fallen off the mountain or she’d walked up on some cougar that had taken her out.

  This wasn’t the way he’d planned for it to end, but he still had Lucy’s gun and he was still breathing, which was more than he could say for the bitch.

  He started back down the trail at a steady clip, with the beam from the penlight he always carried safely lighting his way.

  * * *

  It was nearing dusk as Marlow drove up to Meg’s house to drop Linc off.

  After threatening Fagan’s life, Linc hadn’t spoken another word to anyone. He knew Fagan White’s confession had cleared his name and that two lawmen had witnessed it. But until everything went through the courts and he saw the paperwork clearing the slate, he wasn’t counting on anything.

  His pickup was parked behind Meg’s car, and he half expected her to come out, or for Honey to show up from around the house, barking as she ran.

  But neither one of them showed up.

  The dog must be in the house with Meg, he thought, and started to get out when Marlow stopped him.

  “Look. We’ll be in touch. I’ll make this right, Lincoln. I promise.”

  “Make sure you read him his rights and whatever else it takes these days to arrest a perp. Don’t fuck this up and give some lawyer a way to get him off,” Linc said, then got out, but as he did, the hair suddenly rose on the back of his neck. He heard the frantic barking of a dog in the distance—just like he’d heard the night his father was killed. The ground rolled beneath his feet. He grabbed onto the patrol car to keep from falling.

  Marlow jumped and reached for the door latch. “What the hell, man? Are you all right?”

  Linc lifted his head, breathing in deep drafts of cold air to clear his mind. He wasn’t back at his old house, he was at Meg’s, and the dog barking was Honey.

  “That’s Meg’s dog!” he said. “Something’s wrong!”

  Marlow pointed at his deputy. “Stay there and guard the prisoner. I’ll be right back.”

  Linc was already running toward the house. The front door was locked. When he circled to the back he found the house unlocked and a small bucket of eggs on the floor just inside the door.

  “Meg! Meg, honey, are you in here?”

  She didn’t answer, which meant she must still be outside. Honey’s frantic barking was coming from the barn. He headed there on the run, with Marlow behind him, scared of what he would find and scared that, once again, he’d come too late.

  As he raced into the breezeway he saw a bucket and a pitchfork on the ground, and Honey’s barking sounded even more frantic than before, yet neither she or Meg was anywhere in sight.

  “Meg! Meg! Where are you?” he yelled, then stopped in midstep when he saw what looked like the imprint of someone’s body in the dust—and blood drops on the bucket and the handle of the pitchfork. All of a sudden he heard a thud against the door behind him, and then a wild, frantic yelp.

  “What the hell?” he muttered, then grabbed the granary door and yanked it open.

  Honey leaped out into his chest, teeth bared, ears back, and ready to fight.

  Linc jumped aside, calling her name as he reached for her, but by then she had her nose to the ground, circling, circling, and then all of a sudden she lifted her head and bayed.

  Marlow ran up behind him just as the pup howled. “She’s picked up a scent,” he said.

  “It has to be Meg,” Linc said.

  Before he could grab her, Honey took off, following the trail with her crooked little lope, baying as she ran.

  “I’m gone,” he said.

  “Well, hell,” Marlow said. “I need Eddy to take White on to jail and lock him up. I’ll call for backup at the house and be right behind you. Here...take my pistol and my flashlight. I’ve got spares in the cruiser. I don’t know what’s going on, but don’t go unarmed.”

  Linc grabbed the gun and light, put them in his pockets and was gone, leaping a water trough and then running past the corral and up the mountain, desperate not to lose sight or sound of the dog on Meg’s trail.

  He knew within minutes of entering the woods that someone else was following Meg. The trail was fairly clear, the earth undisturbed except for the recent prints. He recognized the tread of Meg’s work shoes, but there was another set of prints that periodically overlapped hers—a small man’s boot prints. Between that and the blood trail he’d found in the barn, he was scared to death. He took the cell phone out of his coat as he ran, pulled up the number Quinn had given him earlier and hit Call. Whatever was going on, her family needed to know.

  The phone began to ring just as the first flakes of snow landed on his face. Damn. That was only going to make things worse. His mind was in a panic when Quinn’s voice yanked him back to the present.

  “Quinn Walker.”

  “Quinn, it’s me, Linc.”

  Quinn heard the thud of footsteps and the breathy sound of Linc’s voice, and knew he was running.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Not sure. I was with the sheriff. Meg came home alone. We came back, house unlocked, Honey shut up in the barn, and it looked like there’d been a fight. Blood.” Then he stopped a second and bent over to catch his breath. “I let Honey out, and she took off like a bat out of hell up the mountain. Something bad’s happened. Gonna need all the help we can get. I’m following Honey, but it’s dark. Starting to snow. If Meg is hurt and holed up and hiding, I gotta find her before she freezes.”

  Quinn felt helpless. “What the hell? I thought all this was over when Prince White drowned.”

  “Have they found his body yet?” Linc asked.


  Breath caught in the back of Quinn’s throat. “Oh, hell. No. Keep going. I’m bringing Mariah and her dog. He’s good at tracking. We’ll find you, and we’ll find Meg. You have to trust she’ll find a way to take care of herself.”

  Linc dropped the phone back in his pocket and took off again. The brief respite had revived him enough that he took off sprinting, running now with a sense of desperation, praying that whatever was happening was not somehow connected to why he’d come home.

  The farther he ran, the steeper the climb became. He didn’t know how far behind him Marlow was and couldn’t stop to wait. All he could do was follow the sound of Honey’s yipping and pray to God he found Meg in time.

  Eighteen

  Prince felt the snowflakes. He wanted to be off the mountain before it got bad and was moving much faster down than he had going up. He was thinking he should start over somewhere warm. All he had to do was knock off a liquor store or some Quik Stop along the way. They were always easy pickings. He could grow his beard and hair longer and rob his way south, then cross the border into Mexico. It sounded like a plan that would work, and he needed for something to go his way, by God. So far, the past month had sucked eggs.

  He’d been hearing a dog barking for some time now, the way they did when they were on a hot trail. He smiled, remembering how he and Wendell used to run dogs, hanging out over a campfire and drinking their daddy’s homemade wine while the dogs treed their prey. Those were good times. He missed them, and he missed Wendell. His daddy, not so much.

  Prince was lost in thought as he came over a little crest on the trail when suddenly he heard something running in the dark. He stopped, cocking his head to one side as he listened, but all he could hear was a panting, whining sound that made the hair crawl on the back of his neck.

  “What the fuck?” he muttered as he swept the area in front of him with the tiny beam. He caught a glimpse of glowing eyes, and then something large and furry, growling as it ran. He thought, Wolf? and was fumbling for his gun when it leaped at him, growling and snarling, its breath hot and foul. He screamed and stumbled backward with the animal’s saliva dripping onto his chin as he fell. The gun went flying as he began trying to fight off the creature. It lunged at his face, and he began flailing his arms, trying desperately to keep it from tearing out his throat.

  Pain shot throughout his body as teeth ripped through his cheek. “Help me!” he screamed. “Oh, God...help me, help me!”

  He was punching and rolling, and the animal kept riding him, leaping on his back, biting at the base of his neck, then through his coat to the flesh beneath.

  He kicked and momentarily dislodged it, but in the dark he still wasn’t sure what it was he was fighting. All of a sudden there was a ripping sound, followed by a pain so sharp that it rolled through his thigh all the way up his groin. The beast had clamped down on the inside of his leg, pierced his jeans and locked its jaws into his flesh.

  Trapped on his back by both pain and the weight of the animal, all he could do was scream and keep screaming. No matter how hard he kicked, or how frantically he was alternately beating at it and pulling away, he couldn’t knock it free.

  * * *

  Linc was still guided by the sound of Honey’s yipping, and then all of a sudden she fell silent. Before he could panic he heard a man scream, and then the sounds of a fight, man against beast. Whatever was going on, Honey was in a fight to the death. With a last burst of energy he bolted toward the sound, moving too fast for the flashlight lighting his steps to be any use in guiding him past whatever lay ahead.

  He burst upon the dog and the man rolling down on the ground. He swept the beam of his flashlight across the melee, saw Honey with her teeth locked in Prince White’s crotch, and Prince beating at Honey’s back and head. Between the snarls and the screams, he couldn’t tell who was winning, but he knew who was going to end it.

  He grabbed Honey by the collar and began pulling her off and calling her to heel. When she finally let go, she was trembling and covered in blood. He couldn’t distinguish which one of the two was bleeding worse, but he could tell that she would have fought until one of them was dead.

  “Good girl,” he kept saying.

  Prince White had passed out, giving Linc time to assess Honey’s injuries. He kept praising and stroking her, then knelt beside the man’s body. He swung the light toward the dog. When he saw her crippled paw, and that she’d run on it until it was raw and bloody and then kept going, rage washed through him.

  Prince came to, moaning. “It killed me. I think it killed me. I’m bleeding all over. My face...my leg... I’m gonna die.”

  “She didn’t kill you, but I’m going to,” Linc said, and then put a hand on the dog’s head. “Stay, Honey. Stay.”

  She dropped, trembling in every muscle, as she began licking at her crippled paw, cleaning the raw flesh bleeding through her fur.

  Linc swung the flashlight around the area, retrieved Prince’s gun and dropped it in his pocket, then yanked him up and slammed him against the nearest tree.

  Prince’s head popped hard against the trunk.

  He groaned.

  “Where’s Meg?” Linc asked.

  “I don’t know,” Prince moaned.

  “Wrong answer,” Linc said, and slammed him against the tree again, and then again.

  “My God! You’re killing me! I don’t know where she is.”

  Linc put both hands around Prince’s neck. “Move and I’ll break your neck where you stand.”

  Prince was shaking so hard he didn’t think he could stand.

  “I’m hurt too bad. My legs won’t hold me,” he whined.

  “Then you’ll hang yourself if you drop, because I’m not gonna let go. I’ll ask you one more time, and I’d better get an answer I like.”

  Prince was crying and begging for mercy when Sheriff Marlow finally caught up. He was out of breath and staggering from exhaustion, but he had a big searchlight in one hand and a rifle in the other. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  “Don’t kill him, Fox! Don’t do it! We’ve got Fagan. Now we’ve got Prince. Let the law do this right. Please! Let the law do this right!”

  Linc wouldn’t let go. “For the last time, where is Meg Lewis?”

  But Prince’s focus was elsewhere. “You got Fagan? What did he do?”

  Linc’s fingers tightened around Prince’s neck.

  “He confessed to everything, you bloodsucking bastard. You’re going down for my father’s murder. Now what did you do with Meg?”

  “I couldn’t ever catch her,” Prince whined. “Her legs were too long and she ran too fast.”

  Linc flashed on the day he’d fallen in love with Meg Walker, watching as she crossed the finish line at the track meet with her head back and her arms up in the air. It was the first thing Prince had said that he believed.

  “When did you see her last? How far up were you?” Linc said.

  Prince was bawling, and fumbling at his face and the wound on his inner thigh. “Sheriff...you gotta help me. I’m bleeding to death here. The dog tore me up something awful.”

  “Help is on the way. Now answer his question,” Marlow said.

  Prince moaned. “I don’t know how far up, damn it. It got dark. I guess it was about fifteen minutes ago, maybe more, maybe less, when I gave up and turned back.” Then he looked up into Lincoln’s eyes with an expression of cold satisfaction on his face and grinned, revealing a mouthful of bloody teeth. “And I stopped, because I heard her scream. One long scream that ended sudden...like something had cut off her breath. You ask me, she’s dead.”

  Linc hit him on the jaw.

  Prince dropped.

  “He’s all yours,” Linc said. “How far behind is your help?”

  Marlow turned the light onto his watch. “Fifteen minutes...maybe less. Why?”

  Before Linc could answer, his cell phone rang.

  “What?”

  “It’s me. Mariah and I are on the trail
below and coming fast. We can see your light. Did you find Meg?”

  “No. Just Prince White.”

  “Oh shit, oh shit,” Quinn mumbled, unaware he’d even spoken aloud.

  All of a sudden a woman was on the phone.

  “Lincoln. I’m Mariah. I take it Meg’s still missing.”

  “Yes. Prince said he heard her scream. When the screaming stopped, he turned back. Don’t know if he’s telling the truth or not, but I don’t know where to look next, and Meg’s dog is bleeding too bad to go any farther.”

  “Ten minutes. Give me ten minutes and we’re there. I have Moses. He’ll find Meg. I promise. He’ll find Meg.”

  The line went dead in Linc’s ear. He pocketed the phone, then dug White’s pistol out of his pocket and handed it to Marlow, along with the gun Marlow had given him.

  “I won’t be needing these anymore,” he said.

  Marlow pocketed them, then rolled White onto his belly and handcuffed his hands behind his back.

  “This is one hell of a thing,” Marlow muttered as he rolled White back onto his side so he could breathe, and then kicked the bottom of the man’s shoe in frustration. “Sorry bastard. I had Eddy radio my reserve deputies and some medics when he was taking Fagan down to jail. They should be here soon.”

  “She’s not dead,” Linc said.

  Marlow felt sick. He’d doubted everything this man had told him from the start. He felt shame.

  There was a burning inside Linc’s chest that was coming up his throat. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rage. But he held it back, because it would be giving in to the fear that Prince was right.

  “She can’t be dead.”

  Marlow sat down on the ground because his legs were shaking too hard to hold him up any longer. He was way too out of shape for what he’d just done.

  Linc walked over to where Honey was lying, then sat down on the ground and pulled the lanky dog into his lap. She probably weighed a little less than thirty pounds, only half the size she should be, and yet she’d taken down a full-grown man. She whimpered but licked his fingers, as if giving him permission to touch her. He began running his hands all over her body, feeling for broken bones or open wounds.